


Nice Kid

by Offendedfish



Series: Night Lights [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Faust's diabetes whiskey coffee, Gen, Gore, I apologize for how it is used in advance, Implied/Referenced Abandonment, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Torture, OOC, brief discussion about family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 11:07:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25968613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Offendedfish/pseuds/Offendedfish
Summary: Being nice doesn't really put food on the table but it's still good to know someone says it.
Relationships: Jim Gordon & Original Character(s)
Series: Night Lights [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884826
Kudos: 15





	Nice Kid

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [In the Game](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19017142) by [withthekeyisking](https://archiveofourown.org/users/withthekeyisking/pseuds/withthekeyisking). 



> Yet another diner scene. My excuses are that Faust likes sitting around in restaurants and the coffee there is relatively good. (I also wrote this while I was at a diner.) This work is set in the version of Gotham found in the In the Game series by WithTheKeyIsKing. Please check out their fics.

"Faust, you seem like a nice kid-" Jim slapped his hand over his mouth but it was already too late, the words had already slipped and he's not sure if he'll survive. Sure, Faust was the type to anonymously organize charity events and help out kids from the community but so did Al Capone. She's nice enough (comparatively) but she wasn't a saint. Hell, he'd seen her cap a guy for less just yesterday.

Faust's impassive face softened to hint at a tired smile. "Thanks, Jim" she muttered, voice soft and unnervingly genuine. _"_ But nice doesn't foot the bill, _" she_ joked lowering herself to the ground and tracing a circle on the back of a dismembered hand with her black-gloved hand in a facsimile of a sympathetic gesture. 

_It doesn't make sure you're loved and safe, and it, sure as hell, doesn't keep you from all the bad things in the world._ She supplied silently because she knew that Jim already knew this. A man nearly twice her age, let alone a Gotham native, didn't need to hear her diatribe. He knew this city as they all did.

For a breath, she regarded him severed hand still carefully cradled in her own. She could see the nervous quake in his movements and the thin layer of sweat on his skin. She debated on reassuring him that he wouldn't die but she couldn't really blame him for being nervous. After all, they were cleaning up the remains of a man who, she assumed, had at some point said the wrong thing. She decided to keep her mouth shut and not waste her breath. _He'll be fine. The heart palpitations won't kill him._

The clean up was hard work with Faust doing most of it and occasionally giving pointers on how she and the more efficient members dispose of body parts and evidence. She recommended that he doesn't take any souvenirs from this particular scene considering the victim was, in a way, a normal citizen. She said this in the sort of amused matter of fact tone that you would use with a superstition. 

As they finished up, Faust's smile was still saccharine and touched by his words while she picked the man's head frozen in pain; snot, blood, and tears still dripping from it. The contrast made his stomach tumble. 

"I know you're not exactly hungry considering-" Faust sweeps her hand over the now clean crime scene."-but I think we should get a cup of something hot-" she says looking at her watch. This makes Jim check his own. They'd somehow managed to clean the scene in record time. He quietly files this information into the 'I really would have preferred not to know this' part of his mind. "-preferably hot cocoa-" she sheepishly mumbles to herself mostly before hastily adding "-it usually helps me settle my stomach, especially after one of Issa's crime scenes.". 

\----------------------------------------------------

"How can you stomach the work?" The question hung awkwardly between them. It wasn't the first, second, or third time she'd been asked this question. She's given hundreds of reasons. Some more serious, some less so. Sometimes she'd lie if she felt like it and sometimes she'd tell the truth to end the conversation more quickly. But now she paused. She was always stuck with the messy work. The kind that usually made newbies empty their stomachs, but something told her this question was different. He wasn't asking this with all the gore of the previous scene in mind but what took place before it. All the screaming and the tears and the pleas for mercy. That's what he's asking. She hummed, putting half a flask of whiskey and an obscene amount of sugar in her drink. She could see him wince in the corner of her eye making her brow tick up in challenge. Which he, apparently, takes.

"You really ought to not put whiskey in your coffee. And haven't you drank enough today?" he lectured taking the flask from her hand. 

"Rich, coming from the guy who smokes like a chimney" she sneered, feeling a little odd about someone lecturing her on her health. Something of her face must hint at this when he rubs his neck sheepishly and explains "I have a daughter close to your age and she-" _Ah, a family man._ She concluded, adding another teaspoon of sugar out of spite and pulling out a second flask from her coat. Jim grimaced before pocketing the original flask. Her mouth quirked ever so slightly before sipping her awful concoction. Jim huffed and took a sip of his own. The foggy feeling in his chest washed away with a tide of warm liquid burning down his throat. 

_Maybe he'll understand then._

"They're family," she shrugs. The movement stuttering. The words hung between them again. It almost felt shameful to say those words. Their definitions of family were probably worlds apart. Faust tucked away the strange uncomfortableness of the situation to process for a later date. She suspected that unpacking that right now wasn't a good idea. 

The answer felt like a splash of cold water to Jim. It was almost blindingly obvious now. He felt a little stupid. He regarded her again and somehow he could see just how young she is. 

They fell quiet letting the atmosphere of the diner swallow them. It amazed Jim how easily the apprehension of the other customers faded away for her. He could see the nervous glances thrown their way. Really, he couldn't blame them. Faust's presence loomed over the diner even if her head barely reached the top of the booth. He could see the staff watching every one of her slow languid movements. They seemed to be aware of every twitch. But he couldn't really reconcile that image of a scary mobster with this kid hunched over, yawning over a disgustingly sweet drink while humming along to What's New Pussy Cat unironically. Without thinking, he reached over to her and ruffled her head. Everyone held their breath bracing themselves for something to happen. He could feel Faust freeze and brace herself before melting. She said nothing and continued drinking her concoction. He'd been testing his luck all night, and he finds testing it once more by mussing up her hair a little more before taking away his hand. The diner collectively takes a breath and eases back into its quiet caution. 

\------------------------------------------------

They part ways when Faust gets another call. He suspected it was either from Jason or Conner considering the exasperation edging in her voice. Jim said a polite goodbye while Faust opted for an ominous 'Good luck' instead. Thinking on it a little, he's never heard her say a proper goodbye to anyone. 

She chose to walk to her destination since it's only a few blocks away from the diner and there wasn't really any rush. 

_You seem like a nice kid._

Something raw and sad and animal shook loose and burned in her throat but she swallowed it down with a gulp of the city's smog. The statement is so inaccurate in so many ways that it almost made her laugh. Jim was- IS - a good man but it was still too early to trust him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are free game.


End file.
